


After the End

by leista



Category: Super 8 (2011)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leista/pseuds/leista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hate, anger, blame, turns to passion. Passion turns to violence.  And touching to clenching, to grief, to desperate, guilt ridden desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the End

**Author's Note:**

> Woah, wrote this a while back and forgot about it. About halfway through, there's a short scene with a lot of PoV shifts, denoted by '~text' for clarity. I have no recollection of my reasoning behind that.

After the End

 

_Hate, anger, blame, turns to passion. Passion turns to violence. And touching to clenching, to grief, to desperate, guilt ridden desire._

 

 

 

Louis gave Jack a look, and a nod. Then he gave Alice's shoulders a squeeze. “Let's go home.”

“You can't,” Joe said, then he shrank under three sharp sets of eyes. “It's just—one of the tanks, it got your house,” he said apologetically, looking down. Then he looked quickly up at his father.

Jack didn't want to ask. He was trying to convince himself that Dainard wasn't to blame for—for Elizabeth. To forgive him for something he didn't do. But it was easier said than done. 

But the look Joe was giving him...As if he held all the answers, as if he knew they could help.

“You could stay at our place,” Jack said, looking over Louis' shoulder at nothing.

“Jack, you don't have to do this,” Louis said, looking at him over the kids' heads. And Jack had to meet his eyes. They were tired and sad, and a little hopeful.

“Nonsense,” he said, “Let's go home.” He cocked his head at the jeep, and Louis gave him a relieved, half-smile as they followed the kids and clambered inside.

~

It was dark, and the power was out, but at least they had water. 

The kids washed up, and the kids were sent off to bed, Joe to his room, and Alice to the couch.

“We have a guest room,” Jack said quietly as they steeled, “but it's being used for storage. We can clear it out tomorrow.”

Like he was sure Louis would be staying for more than one night. It was a worrying thought, but also a relief. If his house as gone, he didn't know what he'd do. He'd barely made enough at the mill to make ends meet, as it was.

It was good to know he had a lifeline, at least for a few days.

“Thanks, Jack,” he said, because he had to say something, and he was too bone-weary to think of anything original.

“Not a problem,” Jack said, standing up from the kitchen table. “I'm gonna go clean up and pass out.”

Louis nodded, not looking up from his bottle. “I'll camp out in the living room with Ally,” he said, glancing up.

Jack stopped in the doorway, digging his fingers into the frame. “My bed's more than big enough for two, if you'd rather camp out in there,” he said, looking at a spot over Louis' shoulder again. Hell if he wasn't starting to find that endearing.

Louis stared for a moment too long, and saw Jack's fingernails start to dig under the lining of the door frame.

“Yeah, sure,” he said quickly, covering a smile when Jack's hand dropped to his side. “I prefer beds to floors.” Louis cringed. That was the most pathetic sentence he'd ever said. Including some of the nonsense he'd said when he was drunk.

Jack snorted. “Yeah, me too,” he said, leading the way back to the bedroom before stopping right inside, as they stared at the neatly made bed in silence.

“Look, Jack, I'll just take the floor. This is too much to ask of you. Especially with...”

“It's in the past.” Jack said quickly, warningly, without looking up from the bed. 

“No, it's not,” Louis said, moving around to make Jack look at him. And he wished he hadn't.

The look Jack turned on him was twisted with pain, hurt barely being held in check by a crumbling wall.

Louis opened his mouth, again, but Jack's face shut down. 

“If you apologize one more time...” 

“I'm sorry.” It just slipped out, Louis hadn't been able to stop it. And he didn't even try to stop Jack when he went after him. 

He got a breath stealing punch in the gut, and twisted his arms over himself, but before he could get in a deep breath, hands grabbed him by the throat, choking off most of his air. 

Jack stared into his eyes with sharp intensity. 

“Stop saying it, or I'll never be able to stop blaming you for it.” His hands squeezed at Louis' throat for a second longer. Then they slid down, gripping at his shoulders, and then to his biceps. 

But the air went out of him and he dropped his head, almost leaning it on Louis' shoulder. 

Louis can tell something was breaking inside of him. Hope, probably. 

“She's gone, and there's no way she's coming back,” Jack said. Louis felt for him. He knew how that felt. Except his Anna, she was still alive, and hopefully happy, with another man. But Elizabeth.

“Jack.” He didn't know why he said it. It wasn't a question, just a statement, that he was there, and listening. Trying to take in all that he was seeing. 

Jack's eyes met his again, and they were raw, open, and wild. “Jack,” he said again, softly, trying to call sanity back to the man's eyes. The hands wrapped around Louis' biceps tightened, and Jack's head dropped again. He pushed Louis against the wall, a few inches away, and Louis went with it, letting Jack work through whatever he was feeling. 

Then he felt a nose at the crook of his neck, and then teeth, biting down hard, at his pulse point. He gasp, it was a sharp, yet aching pain, but his hands slid gently into Jack's hair, as his arms were freed.

When hands moved down, kneading at his sides as teeth were replaced with tongue, soothing away the hurt and sending a jet of heat kindling low in his abdomen. He was enjoying it. Jack was falling apart on him, and he was fucking _enjoying it._

He made himself push past the pleasure-pain. 

“Jack, what are you...” 

“Shut up,” said a mouth full of his neck. Jack slid up his jaw with his tongue and ended looking at him again, with heat, anger, and something primal darkening his eyes to near black. Those eyes raked over his face, taking in his heavy breathing, his confused, excited look, and his, well, fear. Jack had to have lost it. He was... 

“Shut up, or I'll stop,” he said, and his dark eyes were clear, threatening. Louis licked his lips, and a smile tugged at one corner of Jack's lips before disappearing as he moved back in, clenching one hand in Louis' hair, sliding the other down his back, and slipping inside his pants at the hip. 

Louis wasn't sure what was going on. He couldn't follow Jack's thought processes to their current location, and he didn't know what would happen next. Was it a test? A joke? Revenge? Or was Jack just completely out of his mind. Louis didn't know. All he knew was that the hand at his hip was sliding down to knead at his ass, and he was hard as diamonds. Jack knew that too, as he slid a thigh between his legs, and tugged his head back by a handful of hair. 

“You like that?” he asked in a rough, alien voice, licking and nipping at his Adam’s apple. Louis didn't say anything. He was too focused on pressure at his groin, lips on his neck, his ears sensitive to the erotic sound of the rough slide of denim on cotton. But then it all stopped. All contact slid away, and Louis whimpered.

“God, please don't stop,” he breathed, opening eyes he didn't remember closing. But the Jack staring back at him wasn't dark, mysterious, and rough. His eyes still had a glint of feral heat to them, but there was something softer there, something prey-like and shocked.

“What am I doing?” Jack asked, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up in tufts.

Louis' heart was still pounding out of his chest, and he was so hard he felt that he would bust out of his pants, but the cogs of his brain were starting to turn again. Jack's deer in the headlights look was getting sharper by the second, and if he didn't do something, say something, Jack would run out, and this would just be another horrible event that he would blame on Louis. And Louis couldn't stand that.

Words were still slow in forming in his mind, and his mouth had trouble voicing them, but Louis had to try, before Jack ran.

“You can do anything you want, with me,” he said. So, maybe that was his dick talking, but at least it made that look slide off of Jack's face, replaced by consideration, a glint of amusement, but then, worry. Louis mentally cursed. Jack was thinking again, therefore he was worrying, and that probably meant he would need to go use a week's worth of water for a cold shower.

But as Jack's eyes slid over him, taking in the state of him, clothes askew, hair a mess, flushed all the way to his chest, and an embarrassing tent in his pants, Jack sucked in his bottom lip and nibbled at it. But the worry line creasing his brow sharpened, and the eyes that looked back into his that time were wholly Jack, steady and meticulous and observant.

“Why?”

One little word, and Louis was dumbstruck. Why _did_ he go along with it? He wanted to be immature and point at his groin, but Jack would probably punch him, cuss him, and then kick his ass to the curb. So he actually thought about it, put his brain to good use for once. 

He'd never been with a guy before, but when Jack had stepped into his space, then set his mouth to his neck, it was the strongest, gut reaction to another person he'd ever had. He wasn't sure _why_. Maybe it was their history, all the bad blood and grudges, and the anger turned to another kind of heat. Maybe he'd always felt an attraction, but he'd never paid attention. He did remember catching himself staring at Jack's ass when he was in uniform a few times, but thought nothing of it. Just eye slippage. Or maybe...

“You don't own me anything, Dainard.” 

He'd taken too long to answer, and that thought had just been forming in Louis' own head. But did he feel like he owed Jack, for, for what had happened, because he'd been a worthless pile of garbage and hadn't shown up to work? That might have been part of it, he admitted to himself, but it was a small part, surrounded by something he didn't understand.

His silence told Jack what he'd suspected. “I don't need your pity. Just get out.”

“Pity?” Louis pushed away from the wall, anger overpowering good sense, and shoved right into Jack's personal space. Before Jack could react, Louis grabbed him roughly by the hips and rubbed his erection, which had been fading, but leap back to full attention, against Jack's groin. “Does this feel like _pity_ to you?” He asked, holding on tight to Jack's hips and waiting for him to struggle. 

But he didn't. Louis felt an answering pressure against his hip, and Jack's surprised breath puffed against his ear. 

“No,” Jack said, superfluously, his mouth moving close to the bite he'd left on Louis' neck. “No, it doesn't.” He pressed his lips to the bruising mark, then ran the tip of his tongue over it, delicately, and goosebumps shot up on Louis' arms. His breath hitched. This was an entirely different ballgame than that of a few minutes before.

Jack caught the reaction and his hands slowly reached for Louis' sides, before they slid down, hesitated at the hem of his pants, and then slid in to gently cup his ass. All the while Jack's mouth worried the aching spot on his neck in a not unpleasant way.

Slowly, afraid he'd break the moment, Louis' arms came up and wrapped around Jack's shoulders. Jack smelled like sweat and smoke. The ache in Louis' groin was distant, but it was starting to grow insistent. Especially with the way Jack was rocking his hips and digging nails into his ass, his breath growing ragged in his ear.

“I think,” Louis said, mind cloudy enough that he wasn't so worried about Jack running off, “maybe, we should take the next step. Towards the shower, maybe? And see how things go.”

Jack's hands tightened on his ass, but he pulled away elsewhere, to get a good look at his face. “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?” he asked, and Louis was pleased to see Jack's worry line was smooth. He was thinking in the moment. For the moment. 

So Louis might as well take the moment by the balls and enjoy it.

“If you think I'm suggesting we continue this discussion wet, soapy, and naked,” Louis said, grunting when Jack started backing him towards the bathroom, “then yep. That's exactly what I was suggesting.”  
“Good,” Jack said, sliding his hands free and reaching past him to turn on the water. He started working on the buttons on his own shirt, before cursing and giving up with fumbling fingers as Louis ripped the buttons away, sending them pinging off the mirror and tile walls. He shucked off Louis' button up, and then their arms tangled as they both tried to divest the other of their shirts at the same time. 

Jack chuckled, and Louis grinned, as they managed, with only a few minor complications, and one near accident of Louis falling on his ass, to get out of their clothes and into the shower. Louis wanted to stand and look at Jack's lean, tan body, but Jack shoved at him, self consciously, to get him in the shower, and Louis let it be.

He closed his eyes and let the hot water pummel his chest, and then it was blocked as Jack stepped in in front of him and looked down the line of his body. Louis noticed the scale of the bumps and bruises and scrapes he'd gotten from the wreck for the first time. He was more banged up than he'd thought.

“You look rough,” Jack said, running a soft hand over a bruise over his ribs. He looked back up, and that worry line was starting to come back.

“And you look like sex on legs,” Louis said quickly. It was the truth, but Jack looked away, at the clean wall of the shower, in embarrassment. Louis didn't understand it. How could someone so attractive be so self-conscious about their body. Maybe it was because it was _him_ saying it. 

He decided to show Jack what he meant. “Your fucking arms, man,” he said, squeezing at Jack's biceps. Jack watched with interest, but made no move. 

“And than chest,” Louis said, running his hands over it, rolling his nipples with his thumbs. Jack's breathing hitched, and Louis continued his exploration, sliding his hands down Jack's hips, glancing at his face, and then kneeling and running his tongue of his abdomen. Jack's fingers twisted into his hair, and Louis grinned, sliding his mouth down Jack's upper thigh, nipping at it, before stopping and staring at Jack's cock, hard and poker straight under his attention. He looked back up at Jack again, and had no trouble translating that _want_ in his eyes into words.

But he felt a little self-conscious himself, and glanced away before making himself look back at Jack's face. “Bear with me, here,” he said quietly, “I've never...” He trailed off as comprehension dawned in Jack's eyes.

Then he huffed out a laugh and grinned down at him. “I haven't either,” he breathed, the hand in Louis' hair relaxing its grip. “You don't ha...aah.”

Louis did say he wanted to take the moment by the balls. Well, his aim was off, and he wound up taking it by something a little higher. 

He grabbed Jack by the thighs to steady him as he fell back against the side wall of the shower, and water sprayed unpleasantly into Louis' ear. But he flipped some hair over it and focused on the feel of Jack's cock in his mouth, the head smooth against his tongue.

He moved one hand from Jack's thigh to cup his balls, to slide along the underside of the shaft, as he grew accustomed to the feel of it, and started to enjoy it. Both of Jack's hands were gripped tightly in his hair, and he was making small, strangled noises in his throat, with his head thrown back and eyes closed. But he dropped his head and his eyes slid open, water dripping off his eyelashes and out of his hair, as he stared down at Louis. 

Jack's lips were parted, and he was coming apart around the seams. And Louis was doing it. Louis was making him fall apart, giving him pleasure. Louis slid his mouth further down the shaft than he'd had the courage to before, staring into Jack's eyes, and Jack started to tremble underneath him. 

Until he choked, and Jack's muscles coiled and tensed like a spring. His hands tightened in Louis' hair again as he pulled his mouth away to catch his breath. And when Louis moved back in, they tightened further.

“No, that's enough,” he said, and Louis saw the worry line in sharper relief than he'd seen it yet. He let himself be pulled back to standing with resignation. It had been a good, long moment. He'd wished it would have lasted longer. 

Jack's hands softened in his hair and slid down to his neck. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Louis looked up sharply, seeing the concern, the guilt, there. “I'm fine,” he said, “just tried to do too much, for my first time,” he licked his lips. “I got overexcited.”

He saw another flash of that twitch grin, before it was gone. But it left Jack's eyes brighter. “Well, I couldn't let you choke to death on... _me_.” His eyes danced with mischief in a way that Louis had never seen. It reminded him of a look Elizabeth used to give him, when he was having a rough patch and she just wanted to brighten his day a bit. “Just imagine the headlines. _Acting Sheriff Chokes Petty Criminal with his Cock. Jack's 'Beanstalk' Kills Again._ ”

Louis' face was as hot as certain extremities as he fought down a laugh. Jack would pay for that. He leaned in close, pressed his own _beanstalk_ to Jack's hip, and reached down to run teasing fingers gently over Jack's cock. “But what a way to go,” he said, chuckling triumphantly when Jack leaned back into him, giving him the upper hand.

He pressed his cock to Jack's crevice, and Jack gave a strangled moan. But when Louis moved, it was a rough drag of too much friction, so he grabbed the nearest bottle, a spicy scented shampoo, and rubbed the soapy lather over Jack, getting more muffled moans as he curiously rubbed it round that puckered ring of muscles. For safe measure, he drizzled some over his own cock before pulling Jack back against him, sliding a soapy hand back around to hold Jack's cock, before he started slowly thrusting against Jack's ass.

His cock slid up the crevice in a delicious facsimile of being engulfed, and Louis threw his head back, stumbling back a step to the back wall of the shower. Jack followed, reaching behind and grabbing his ass in one hand, using the other to stabilize them. With every cant of Louis' hips, Jack pressed back, pressing back at that puckered ring of muscle, but not slipping inside. 

Louis didn't think either of them were ready for that, no matter what Jack's body was trying to tell him. He tightened his hand around Jack's cock, and kneaded his other hand into his hip as they picked up a rhythm. 

But it had been a while.

A long while.

And Louis knew he couldn't last. So he sped up his hand on Jack, thankful for the lubrication of the soap, and Jack thrust back against him harder, faster, small, mewling sounds of pleasure he couldn't quiet. 

Louis drank them up, leaned his head over Jack's shoulder and pressed their faces close so they breathed in the same air, and so he could hear them better. 

He gave a stronger squeeze, and ran a thumb over the head of Jack's cock as he felt his own climax building. Jack shuddered and pressed back against him harder, breath coming out in short groans and pants, as come fell across his hand, to be sprayed away by the cooling water.

Both of Jack's hands came around to grab at him as Louis, desperate for his release, thrust harder against him. 

Jack arched his neck back, mouth reaching for any part of him, and found his jaw. He kissed, then ran his teeth over, Louis' stubbled jaw, still in the throes of his own release. 

Within seconds, Louis fell over the brink, Jack's strong, lean body pressed back as firmly to his own as possible, without being inside of him. He shuddered, felt hot come shoot down Jack's crevice, pulling another hitched breath out of him, before they were both still, struggling to catch their breath.

“I've never been a chew toy before,” Louis said, still panting, laughing a little.

Jack twisted back around and clenched a hand in Louis' dripping hair. He leaned in until they were breathing the same air and kissed him, a wild unfettered exploration of mouths and tongues. When he had to stop for breath, he pressed his forehead against Louis' and took a few shaky breaths.

"I lost control," he said, wondering, "I never lose control of myself like that."

Louis saw that it was a precarious, delicate moment, and, after what he'd learned from the events of the last hour or two, stomped all over the cracking ice in ski boots. "Get used to it, baby, because that was just the beginning."

"Don't," Jack gave him his textbook _don't fuck with me_ face, "don't call me baby."

"How about babe?"

"I don't like it." Jack's stern expression slipped and his brow smoothed, "but it's better than 'baby'."

"I could call you dumplin'. Or honey bun," Louis teased, glad that he'd destroyed the moment.

Jack looked down and pressed more firmly against him and ran his hands over his sides as sensitive, spent areas of their anatomy slid against each other. When he looked back up, his eyes were soft, and a little vulnerable. Louis' heart skipped a beat.

But Jack, ever the stoic, didn't say what was running through his mind. "Dumpling? Really? Are you sure you're not just hungry?"

"Now that you mention it..." Louis slid into an easy grin. He would never, in a million years, have guessed where he wound up. Nude and content, and sated, with lukewarm, chilling water spraying in his face over Jack's shoulders. 

But hell, since he was there, might as well embrace it.

He took in the fond-but-hiding-it, irritated face Jack was giving him, knocked his chin up with a loose fist, and pressed their lips together gently, softly. When he opened his eyes again, the look Jack was giving him was raw, scared. Like a cornered animal. Again.

Louis challenged that look. If he never saw that look again, it would be too soon. He grabbed Jack by the ass brazenly, gave it a squeeze, and then stepped out of the shower.

"I'll go find us some eats while you finish up," he said, unable to look Jack in the eye, afraid of what he'd see, but pretending to think nothing of it.

He reached the door, had the knob twisted, when Jack spoke up.

"Louis."

When Louis turned around, Jack was still facing the back wall of the shower, cool water pummeling his shoulders, but his head was down. He straightened it up, but didn't look around.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.

Louis smiled, and it hurt.

"So am I," he said. 

And then he turned and walked away. He knew that Jack needed some time.

~~~

It was still dark out, though Louis felt that his encounter with with Jack had taken all of the night. He had sat down at the kitchen table with a bottle of soda (Jack didn't have any booze), after stealing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was a little tight across the chest and shoulders. 

The drink was half gone when Jack stepped inside the room, cocked his head to the side, and then sat down next to him. Not even pretending not to stare.

At least he was getting over the no eye contact stuff. But it made Louis feel awkward, on display, and he took another sip of his drink to cover it up.

“I never would have guessed,” Jack started, but then thought better of it. He thinned his lips, plopped his hands on the table, and stared at them.

Louis thought of the way those hands had been gripping him, tight enough to bruise, just a few minutes before. With those thoughts racing through his mind, he didn't speak. He was afraid of what he'd say. 

He drank again.

Jack took a breath. “You know, Elizabeth and I, we fought about you a few times.”

Louis looked up sharply, a growing flicker of guilt building by the moment. 

But Jack was smiling, softly fondly. “Because she said, underneath the booze and attitude, you were a good guy.” Jack kept staring down at the table, that odd, fond look in his eyes. 

“I never saw it,” he said, “not for a second, and I told her that.” He looked up at Louis, and the fondness didn't fade. It was just colored by something else, something like wonder, and wry amusement.

“So we argued. But she always had more patience than I did. No matter what we fought about, she normally folded. Stopped arguing. And waited me out.” He snorted, self-deprecation in the act. 

“She gave me time to see things her way. And most of the time, I did.”

Louis' mouth was dry. Jack's look was unreadable. But then a small smile twitched into existence. But it didn't flit away. It stayed.

“Like just now.” Jack said. Soft lines appeared around his eyes and he stood up. He offered Louis a hand.

Louis stared at it. He knew it was a big moment, something that would make or break whatever was happening between him and Jack. He couldn't stomp on this one, or ignore it. And he didn't want to.

He took Jack's hand, and the soft lines around Jack's eyes grew more pronounced, the worry line fading to a faint imprint.

“Let's get some sleep,” Jack said.

“Yeah,” Louis couldn't help but say as Jack led him back towards the bedroom, “it's been a long, hard night.” 

 

~~

 

**OTHER SNIPPETS**

 

Jack was curled up firmly on his side of the bed, facing the wall. Louis set the little lantern on the nightstand and waited for Jack to roll over, tell him again that it was okay for him to be there.

But Jack didn't move. Louis couldn't even see him breathing. He sat lightly on the bed and waited for a reaction.

Nothing.

He quickly turned off the light and slid into bed in one smooth move. He could feel the tension emanating from the other side of the bed, and it was making his neck and shoulders tighten uncomfortably.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, on the off chance that Jack always slept like he had a broomstick shoved up his ass.

Jack moved. He adjusted his pillow and glance over his shoulder at Louis. “Goodnight, Louis,” he said, and then sighed and rolled back over.

Louis' shoulders eased, and he pillowed his head on one hand, staring at the impossibly dark ceiling.

Even a familiar world looks alien without artificial lights glaring everywhere. And he was far from a familiar environment as it was possible to be at that moment.

~It took Jack a long time to fall asleep. He'd never gotten used to sleeping alone, but it was different, feeling Louis' body heat at his back. His breathing was louder, the dip in the bed was bigger, and it made him ill at ease, despite everything. 

But still, he eventually fell asleep.

~Louis hadn't slept with anyone, in a carnal or literal sense, since Anna had left him. Even after their...adventure...being in bed with Jack, it felt strange. Part of him wanted to reach across the bed and hold, cradle, touch. He had to keep reminding himself of _who_ it was across from him.

He wasn't sure if it would be tolerated.

He fell asleep with one arm stretched our across the bed, unconsciously reaching out.

~Jack woke up slowly, by degrees, noting one slow fact after another. First, he noticed the warm sunlight shining on his face. Next, the warm arm stretched across his stomach, with a big hand curled possessively around his hip, and a weight on his arm and shoulder.

Then he opened his eyes and noticed Joe standing in the doorway, fingers clenching at the door frame.

Power's back on,” he said quietly, and Jack noticed Louis was still asleep, laying on his front, with his face close to Jack's own, his head resting on his shoulder, and his necklace cool against Jack's skin. “I made coffee.”

Before Jack could think of a damn thing, Joe slipped away, back to the kitchen by the sound of his retreating footsteps.

~When Louis woke up, he was pressed close to a warm body. He sighed in contentment and stretched. But reality of the night before came crashing over him and his eyes snapped open.

Jack was staring at the door with his mouth a little open and and unreadable look on his face. But he hadn’t shoved Louis away.

“Good morning,” he said, slowly pulling away, but Jack grabbed his arm and he froze. Fingers dug into his forearm. This wasn't a freakout about him. “What's wrong?”

“Joe saw us,” Jack said in a low, panicked hiss, “ _like this_.” His eyes bore into Louis' until he had to look away.

His hand had settled back around Jack, possessively, his head resting against Jack's shoulder. Jack's arm was around him, and they were breathing in the same air.

Louis pulled away quickly, feeling a quick thrill as Jack's hand slid down his arm before letting go. “Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...”

“Shut up.”

~Jack needed to get up. He needed to get out of med and talk to Joe. But Louis was so warm, so close, and it felt so good to be that close to another person.

Louis had fallen obediently quiet, but he was staring at him, apprehension and something softer, warmer, warring on his face.

Jack was struck by that, by what Elizabeth had always seen in Louis. He was a train wreck of a person, sad and depressed and hopeless and drunk most of the time. But it was all right there to see, right on his face. Right in his eyes.

Jack rubbed a hand over his face, stared at the door again. “What do I do?” he asked. What could he tell Joe?

“What do you want to do?” Louis asked, moving closer again, propping up on an elbow, as if they'd been in that situation, conversing in bed together, dozens of times before.

Jack considered that, and he answered honestly, flopping back against the pillows. “I want to go back to bed.”

Louis grinned, glancing down at him, and Jack recognized the implied _with you_. Then he sat up and stretched again. “We shouldn't,” he said.

Jack watched the muscles in Louis' arms, his chest, go long and taunt, and stretch his shirt beyond repair. Watched the blanket slide down to his hips and he arched his back. Louis was thickly built and muscular, and rough around the edges. Not soft or smooth or thin, like Elizabeth, or Jack's short string of earlier lovers. 

But in that moment he was struck, just as he was the night before, that he wanted him. He wanted to explore that rough, strong body with his hands and tongue and teeth. He wanted to...

Louis straightened up and Jack sat up, looking away quickly.

~Louis' eyes were sharp enough to catch Jack staring, and the subtle flush under his dark skin when he looked back to the door. 

So last night wasn't just an emotional fluke. Jack felt the same attraction that he did, the way he was _drawn_ to him. He looked at Jack's profile, his back a little hunched with worry, and he gave in to one of his less dangerous urges.

He scooted closer to Jack, and ran a soothing hand over his back. “Come on,” he said softly, “we'll figure this out.”

  
  


~

Joe was sitting at the kitchen table, eating dry cereal straight out of the box, not really tasting it, when Alice walked in, still in her borrowed night clothes.

“Milk's gone bad,” he said absently, and offered her the box. She took a handful and plopped into the seat next to him.

Joe gave her thirty seconds of peace.

“I saw out dads in bed together,” he said in a rush. 

Alice froze with a piece of cereal halfway to her mouth, then turned to stare at him. “You _what_?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You're joking, right?”

But the aforementioned walked into kitchen together, Louis a step behind, and sat at the table across from their kids.

“Joe,” Jack said gently, glancing at Alice, then looking into his son's eyes, “About what you saw earlier...”

Alice choked on her cereal. 

Maybe Joe should have been more tactful in what he'd told her.

  
  


~

Jack and Louis went to bed the next night with each kid securely in their own room.

“I don't know what we're going to do with them,” Jack said, fondly exasperated, as they both crawled into bed.

“I would suggest something that involved exterior door locks, duct tape, and chastity belts. But I bet Alice would revolt,” Louis said.

They were both in bed, securely on their own sides. And they stared at each other. Louis now knew that, if he left it to Jack, they'd be like that all night.

Slowly, like he'd approach a frightened animal, he scooted closer to the center of the bed.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he was more relaxed, and he slid a few millimeters closer to Louis.

That was all the invitation Louis needed. He moved until he was pressed along Jack's front, as Jack avoided eye contact and had trouble deciding where to put his hands. 

Louis took pity on him.

“Roll over,” he said, and was surprised when Jack did, immediately. “I could get used to that,” he said, thinking of other things he'd like Jack to do.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Louis said, rolling onto his side and putting an arm around Jack's middle. It felt...a little odd, and a bit awkward.

He buried his nose in the crook of Jack's neck, then pressed a soft kiss just there.

It was like flipping a switch.

Jack relaxed back against him and their bodies melded together like they were meant to be. His hand wound up at the him of Jack's shirt, in the front, so he slid it up and under, fingers splayed.

Jack leaned into the touch with a hum. Then he caught himself. “Not tonight,” he said quietly, “we have to get some sleep...tomorrow's gonna be...”

  
“I know,” Louis said with a regretful sigh, then he pressed another kiss to his neck.

  
  


~~

(4 months later)

“I'm so damn tired of people fawning over me for 'taking you in', like I'm the messiah. Like we're not...”

“Fucking like bunnies?”

“Or...”

“In a weird, yet committed relationship-thing?”

Jack gave him a plaintive look. “I'm so tired of it. What do we do?”

Louis hummed. “I could move out.”

Jack glared at him. “The hell you could.”

“We could _come_ out,” he said carefully, not looking at Jack.

Jack hedged and let out a deep sigh. “I'm not sure how people would react to that; it might even cost me my job.”

Louis had expected that, and it didn't really bother him. Too much. “Then you've gotta learn to deal with the fawning,” he said, a little more roughly than he meant to.

Jack flopped into a seat in the kitchen and slumped over the table with a groan. 

Spotting weakness, Louis forgot his mild irritation and went on the attack. 

He rubbed Jack's shoulders until he leaned back into the touch, rumbling deep in his chest in a way that made Louis want to suck his brains out through his dick.

His hands slid from Jack's shoulder down his chest, his palms rubbing at his nipples through his uniform. Then he moved his hands down Jack's stomach, distracted for a moment when Jack kissed a spot right below his ear as he leaned over.

But Jack's hands stopped him when he reached his belt. “I don't have time,” he said, tone even more plaintive and sullen than before.

“Make time,” Louis said, starting on the buttons at the bottom of Jack's uniform shirt and making his way up. Jack let him, and leaned back into the chair, giving him easier access.

“I'm just home for a quick lunch before I head back in,” he said, nuzzling at Louis' neck in a way that drove him wild and made him fumble with the last button.

“Don't rip it,” Jack said sharply.

“I wasn't going to,” Louis said innocently, though he'd been considering it.

“These things are expensive to replace,” he said, “quickly undoing the last button himself and standing to reach Louis better.

Louis' protests were muffled by Jack's lips, and he remembered they had to be fast. He reached down and cupped Jack through his pants, illiciting a delicious gasp that he caught with another kiss, before dragging his hand up the zipper to Jack's belt and jerking it loose.

“Why can't you take no for an answer,” Jack breathed into his neck, hands pressed to the small of Louis' back, pulling him closer.

“I can,” Louis said, moving his hand teasingly away from Jack's fly. “I just hadn't heard a no yet.” He started to pull back, but Jack grabbed him tighter.

“Don't you dare stop,” Jack said with a hint of a grown to his voice.

Louis chuckled, slid a hand over Jack's boxers, and was about to slip it inside and grasp his prize when there was a sharp rat-a-tat on the door.

They both cursed and Jack rushed for the door while Louis' brain started turning and he tried to remember when, and where, he'd lost his shirt.

_Oh, there it is_ , he thought slowly staring up at the light fixture as Jack opened the front door. To show one of his coworker cop buddies, Rosko, if Louis remembered correctly. Who took in both of their states, disheveled and partially clothed, and then crinkled his brow.

“Is everything alright?” Rosko asked.

Jack's eyes went wide and panicked before he quickly recovered. “Alright? Oh, yeah. We were just...” Jack trailed off. His uniform shirt was handing open, the undershirt pulled free and hiked up his stomach. His belt and pants were hanging open.

Louis was shirtless, standing in the sunlight, staring up at the kitchen's light fixture with its new t-shirt accessory.

Jack sighed. It was now or never. He would never have a more obvious chance. 

“We were just having sex,” he said, as if he were discussing the weather.

Louis looked over at him sharply, mortification and amusement chasing each other across his features as he crossed the room.

“Right,” Rosko said, pulling out his notepad, and looking down at it,“So, I was talking with Lorraine down at...” his head shot up. “What?”

“He's lying,” Louis said pleasantly, giving up on his shirt and nudging Jack when he started to tense up. “We hadn't got to the sex yet. It was, what?” He looked to Jack for guidance, mischief dancing in his eyes, then back at Rosko. “Some over the clothes, below the belt fondling.”

Louis was surprised to feel an arm settle around him, over his side, as Jack stared steadily at Rosko, as he goggled at him.

“What—you two?” Rosko caught himself, and he covered his shock. “That's unexpected,” he said mildly, “does anyone else know?”

Jack shook his head and let Rosko inside, stopping to fasten his pants. “That's the problem. People keep treating me like some sort of fucking _saint,_ when really...”

“He's just fucking me,” Louis supplied helpfully.

“Oh. Uh, have you thought about making some kind of announcement?”

“Like what, putting it in the paper? _Sheriff Jack is fucking Louis Dainard, so stop gushing at him for being so good to that poor unfortunate_?”

“Has a nice ring,” Louis said, sitting at the kitchen table and stretching back, his arms over his head. Because he knew what it did to Jack. “Though it's not as good as some headlines you've thought up.” He grinned when Jack's face flushed and he had to look away.

Rosko looked between them. “You could just...be yourselves. Go out in public and...act couple-y,” he said, “you know how fast the rumor mill works around here. Word would be out by the end of the day.”

“We could just go to the grocery store and do it in the produce aisle,” Louis said, trying to bait Jack.

Rosko went along with him, put on a pensive expression. “Might have to nab you for public indecency for that one,” he said.

“Really?” Louis asked, feigning surprise, even as Jack stepped up behind him. “Pity. I had some promising ideas involving carrots.” 

Jack's fingers dug into his shoulder, and he couldn't hold back a laugh.

“We'll figure it out, Rosko,” Jack said quickly, squeezing his shoulder again as a silent plea to shut the hell up, “It's not your problem. What did you need?”

Rosko stared at one, then the other of them blankly in turn, then blinked a few times. “I haven't got a damn clue,” he said. He paused in his search for his notepad to stare in wonder as Jack laughed, heartily.

He shared a surprised look with Louis. A look that said, without words, _whatever you're doing, keep doing it_.

Louis stared up at Jack, amusement still playing through his eyes as his thumb rubbed over his shoulder in small circles. 

_Oh, I fucking plan on it._

  
  


~~

 

(2 months even later)

 

Louis knew that he was treading a fine line, that Jack wouldn't approve. But he was desperate, and Joe was the only person who could help him. So he waited out front of the schoolhouse as Joe was paged, checked out of school, and came out to meet him.

  
  


He hesitated for a moment when he saw Louis leaning against his car. “I don't have a doctor's appointment, do I?” he asked, walking around to the passenger side.

“Nope,” Louis said cheerfully, “I need your help on an important mission.” Joe's eyes went wide and wary, so Louis clarified. “I have no idea what to get your dad for his birthday.” he admitted.

Joe relaxed and hopped in the car, catching a glimpse of Alice staring out a classroom window. He shrugged at her, gave her a wave, and got inside.

“We could have done this after school,” Joe said slowly as Louis started the car up and drove away.

“But Jack would be off work by then, and,” he glanced at Joe, then back out the front, “I wanted to surprise him.” he mumbled it.

Joe smiled. “So, what are we gonna get him, Mr. Dainard?”

“That's just it. I don't know.” He glanced at Joe again. “And you don't have to call me that, you know.”

Joe had noticed that Louis didn't like being called that, but... “What should I call you, then?”

Louis shrugged, eyes still on the road as he navigated traffic. “I don't know,” he said, “as long as it's not _Mr. Dainard_ ,” he put on a haughty voice. “Just call me Louis.”

Joe scrunched up his nose. “But that sounds weird?”

Louis risked another glance. “ _Weird_? That's my name.”

“It's what Dad calls you.” Joe said.

Louis shrugged. “Look, it doesn't really matter what you call me, as long as you _do_ call me when you need somebody and your dad can't be there, or if you think he want understand.”

Joe thought for a long moment. “So, Mom, then?” he said, barely containing a giggle.

Louis smiled out at the road and sighed. “You're hopeless,” he said fondly.

~ 

Everyone was finishing up dinner, except Alice, who was at softball practice.

“So, Mom, have you give Dad his present yet?” Joe asked after he cleaned his plate, knowing well that he hadn't. He hopped up from the table to go grab it.

“ _Mom_?” Jack ask when he left the room.

Louis blushed. “He asked what he should call me; I said it didn't matter as long as it wasn't _Mr. Dainard_.”

Jack burst out laughing, eyes squinted and teeth shining. But he quickly covered his mouth when Louis frowned at him.

“It was a serious discussion.”

“Sorry,” Jack said, eyes still shining.

Then Joe was back in the room with two little black boxes, one small and square, and the other rectangular.

Meddling kid. Somehow he knew that Louis was getting cold feet about the gifts they'd decided on.

“What's this?” Jack asked, eyeballing the boxes, but Joe bypassed him and handed him the little square one, waiting for Louis' word. They'd talked about that on the care ride home. They had to do it just right.

“You see, it's your birthday today,” Louis said.

Jack feigned surprise. “ _Is it_? I hadn't noticed.” Then his look softened. “You didn't have to get me anything.”

Louis shared an exasperated look with Joe. “We know we didn't _have to_. But, you know, when you care about someone, you _want to_.”

“Really, Dad, Mom's right,” Joe said, grinning when Jack had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at the look Louis gave him.

“Seriously, kid?”

Joe shrugged. “Can I give him mine, now?” 

Louis waved his hand, watching Jack's face closely as Joe handed him the long box. Louis was smiling, and he hoped it covered the apprehension in his eyes.

“What's this?” He opened the box and pulled out a long, simple silver chain with no pendant or adornment. He was holding up the chair with his right hand, but he was running his left thumb over his wedding ring.

Part of Louis was relieved that he'd made the connection. Another part was scared fucking shitless that it was too soon. That Jack wasn't ready to take it off, not even to put it back on a chain. That Joe was wrong, and Jack needed longer before he could take that step to move on.

But Jack just stared at Joe's beaming face for a minute before turning to look at Louis. Louis had trouble meeting his eyes, but when he did, some of his tension eased.

Jack wasn't smiling anymore, but his eyes were soft, warm, and open. He looked down at the chain, ran his fingers sown the smooth metal to the clasp.

“This is a nice chain, son,” he said, looking up at Joe with a soft smile, “It would be a pity not to use it.”

The look Joe shot Louis said _See? I told you!_ but Louis was still nervous. Even as he watched Jack gently slide the ring off his finger and onto his new chain. He started to put it around his neck, but pulled it off with a frown.

And Louis' world started to crumble around him. He shouldn't have pushed so hard. He'd gone too far. And it might have ruined the best thing that had happened to him since—since Anna.

But then Jack was putting the necklace back up again only to drop it again with a sigh. He turned his back to Louis in his chair.

“Fasten this, will you?”

Louis' hands were shaking a little, and it took him a few tries to work the clasp as the enormity of what Jack's simple act sank in.

Joe was grinning at him in that goofy _I told you so!_ Way as Jack scooted back around to the table. Then he motioned at Louis to give him _his_ gift.

But Louis was getting cold feet. The ring, he had a feeling, would be taking it too far. So he started to grab it off the table. “I don't think...”

But Jack's hand landed on top of his, and their eyes met. “It's okay,” he said quietly, running a thumb over Louis' wrist.

Louis didn't know why he was surprised that Jack had worked it out. Jack had acute observation powers and deductive skills. They came in handy on the job, but it wasn't like he turned them off after work.

Louis moved his hand, and Jack picked up the box. He pulled the ring out and studied it. It was silver, like the necklace. But it was wide and had a pattern of complex, interlocking Celtic knots weaved across it. It didn't hold a candle to the simple elegance of Jack's wedding ring.

Louis had seen it a lot over the past few moments. He'd felt its smoothness when he and Jack interlocked hands as they made love. Felt the warm slickness of it covered in come as Jack milked his release out of him, breathing unrepeatable things in his ear. He'd seen sunlight glint off of it in the mornings, when Jack was still asleep, unconsciously curling a possessive arm over him.

And his new band, it was cheap, simple, and more to Louis' taste than Jack's.

Louis made himself look away from the ring, prepared to see disappointment creasing Jack's face.

But it wasn't. His eyes were shiny, and he had to swallow a few times before he could speak.

“Thank you,” he choked out, and then he dropped the ring and it hit the table with a solid _clink_ , before he managed to put it on the third finger of his right hand.

Louis felt an exhausted sense of relief, so much so that he was surprised when Jack stood and pulled him up into a bone cracking hug.

Jack dropped his head on Louis' shoulder, and a chair scraped back from the table.

“I'll just...go do my homework,” Joe said, smiling as Louis grinned at him.

“Night, son,” Jack said, muffled against Louis' shoulder, as Joe headed for his room.

Louis just held Jack, a part of him surprised that he still _could_ , running his hands up and down Jack's back. He buried his nose against Jack's neck and took a shaky breath of his own.

“I was fucking petrified of how you'd react,” he admitted to Jack's neck. And the arms around his shoulders tightened even more.

“I could tell,” Jack said, hint of a laugh coloring the emotion in his voice, “and with the size of the box, and the way you were acting, I figured it was either a ring or a tiny bomb.”

Louis didn't know what to say, so he pressed a kiss to Jack's neck.

Jack was silent for a long moment. “I'm glad it wasn't a bomb.”

Louis straightened back up to see Jack grinning at him.

“You're glad it wasn't a bomb? That's the best you can do?” Louis was starting to relax, and the teasing came naturally. It was like an old standby. “See if I get you any more presents.”

Jack just grinned and ran a hand through his hair before his face sobered. “Oh, and if you ever pull Joe out of school for something unimportant, then,” he tugged at Louis' hair gently, “I'm going to shave your head while you sleep.”

“ _This_ wasn't unimportant,” Louis started defensively, only to stop when Jack slid his hands down and gave his ass a conciliatory squeeze.

“Which is why I'm giving you a pass for this one,” he said very reasonably, for a man who'd just groped him.

“How'd you know?”

Jack raised his brows. “You have a traitor in your midst.”

“Ally,” Louis said. He knew he should have paid her off. He frowned at Jack. “This is all _your_ fault. You're corrupting her.”

Jack looked innocent. “I can't help it if your daughter's a reasonable, upstanding citizen, unlike her father.”

“ _Corruption,_ ” Louis whispered in his ear, and Jack shivered.

“Actually, she called to tell me happy birthday before practice, and happened to let it slip.” 

They were quiet, looking over each other, enjoying the physical contact, for a long moment before Louis woke to reality.

“Come on,” he said, passing through the kitchen, towards the bedroom, “I want to give you the rest of your present.”

“There's more?” Jack asked in a deep, warm tone, hands sliding around Louis' middle as they stepped into the room and closed the door behind them.

“Baby, we haven't even got started yet,” Louis said.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


 


End file.
